


Limbs Like Lead

by In_love_with_writing002



Series: Monsterfucker Geralt Stories [3]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Geralt gives too much information, Geralt is Stubborn, Geralt is a monsterfucker, Jaskier judges silently, M/M, Mosterfucker Geralt: Head Empty Dick Hard, Other, References to Fae, Self-Indulgent, That's just Geralt in general though, against a tree, and you thought it couldn't be done, implied sex, memory problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:29:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25579621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/In_love_with_writing002/pseuds/In_love_with_writing002
Summary: “Well come on then, let’s get you cleaned up.” Jaskier knelt on the ground next to Geralt, lifting one of his arms and draping it over his shoulder.“I would rather not move,” he mumbled, though he rested his head against Jaskier’s shoulder.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Others
Series: Monsterfucker Geralt Stories [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1842091
Comments: 14
Kudos: 155





	Limbs Like Lead

**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively titled "Brain Like Soup" because of Geralt's shit memory.
> 
> I realized recently that I write Jaskier a lot closer to Dandelion in this series! I'm still not planning on changing the name though, because I'm very lazy. Please enjoy the third instalment!!

“You weren’t supposed to follow me,” Geralt grumbled. It would have been harsh, chastising, except Geralt was naked as a babe, so it lost a lot of effects.

“Dare I ask what happened?” Jaskier crossed his arms, watching Geralt lazily scratch his stomach. He was, admittedly, curious about the situation. It wasn’t often he stumbled across Geralt in a compromising position outside of their bedroom. It didn’t help his curiosity when Geralt only shrugged in response.

“I’m exhausted,” he said.  _ Exhausted _ was another one of the words Geralt used sparingly. Fights wore him down, being around people overwhelmed him, and sex made him tired, so it was up to Jaskier to figure out what it was that had pushed him to the descriptor.

“And naked,” he said. Geralt hummed, a satisfied little thing.

_ Oh— _

“Geralt.”

“Hmm?”

“Did you come into the woods looking for a, a-  _ creature _ that would indulge in your  _ fantasies?” _ It was a roundabout way of asking Geralt what had happened, especially when he already had his suspicions, but confirmation never hurt, and now that he was paying more attention, Jaskier could see his bruises, on his thighs, hips, and around his neck. “How many does that make this?”

Geralt grinned in response.

“Oh,  _ fuck off! _ ”

Jaskier wasn’t one to judge. He really wasn’t. He’d figured out after the incident with the witch and his unfortunate curse that this was a fairly common occurrence with Geralt. But it unnerved him, when Geralt would come back from a hunt with a creature whose name Jaskier couldn’t pronounce or rhyme with, and Geralt would tumble into bed, usually without a bath, and pass out until the morning. They hadn’t really  _ discussed _ it, even when Jaskier had been cursed. Geralt had been tired from his fight, and had apparently not slept while watching over him, so after a second, less intense romp, he’d fallen into a peaceful sleep.

Jaskier almost missed the days when Geralt had kept it a secret, when he didn’t worry about his friend (lover? What did you call two adults who occasionally had very passionate and loving sex every once in a while, but the rest of the time hardly acknowledged it?) and the situations he put himself into. It seemed like he was going out of his way to fill a very specific void, at the risk of his life every time. Jaskier wished he could find a safe way for Geralt to indulge.

“Well come on then, let’s get you cleaned up.” Jaskier knelt on the ground next to Geralt, lifting one of his arms and draping it over his shoulder.

“I would rather not move,” he mumbled, though he rested his head against Jaskier’s shoulder.

“Geralt, I’m not going to just  _ leave you _ here. You’ve already been gone long enough for me to come find you.” It was true that Jaskier had stopped being so vehement about following Geralt since the incident with the witch. He still  _ tried,  _ of course, for his stories, but he understood the risks a bit more. Now he waited at the taverns or inns in their room, playing for a crowd, or getting a bath together for when Geralt came back. The water had gone cold that day, which prompted Jaskier’s concern. “Now come on, you great oaf. Where are your clothes?”

“There’s a stream nearby. I’ll try to remember.”

That was another thing that concerned Jaskier. Whenever Geralt was really involved with one of his…  _ monsters _ … his memory tended to slip. Never for anything major, like where he was, who he was, or what was happening, but more things that prevented it from moving forward. How his body was supposed to move, for example. Or where his clothes vanished to.

“How far is the stream?” Jaskier heard Geralt take a deep breath.

“Not far. Keep walking straight, you’ll-“ Geralt paused, his mouth cracking open into a yawn. “Get there.” Jaskier hauled Geralt to his feet with some effort, feeling the trembling in his muscles, the quaking in his thighs.

“Must I do all the work? You have legs, Geralt.  _ Use them. _ ”

“You’re the one who wanted to move me,” Geralt pointed out. “I was fine.”

“You were  _ not! _ ” Jaskier scoffed. He tripped a little over a rock, catching himself on a tree. After righting himself, he adjusted his grip to be more solid around his friend, and started an earnest march towards the river. “You would have lain on the ground until tomorrow morning, knowing you. It’s undignified, and frankly, a little embarrassing.” And Geralt could stand to be a  _ little  _ grateful. Would some humility hurt him?

Geralt chuckled against his neck which was… concerning. “Not the worst spot to lay in.”

“ _ Geralt. _ ” Jaskier was scandalized. Or, appalled? Something disturbed. “Don’t tell me you have a ranking system.”

“The  _ worst _ place was the crypt, for sure. I didn’t enjoy sleeping next to someone’s long-deceased great grandfather.”

Jaskier felt like gagging. It wasn’t entirely unbelievable, which may have been the worst part about it. The image of Geralt snuggled up with old bones left a bad taste in his mouth. “And the most pleasant?” If Geralt was finally going to give details, he may as well get the whole story.

“Feywilds. There was this-“

Jaskier gasped. “Where?”

“I just said, Jaskier.”

“No, I mean the _entrance._ _Where_ were you? Was it Toussaint?”

Geralt grunted in confusion, and Jaskier looked at him, pausing the walk. He looked baffled, though there was something like realization dawning on his face. “The, you said you-“

“In  _ Toussaint,” _

“Three years ago.”

“And didn’t we-“

“Right, we met again-“

“In Belhaven,”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier felt a hysterical chuckle threaten to bubble out of him as he continued forward, and bit his lip to stop it.

“You said he was wearing a glamour, right?” Geralt asked. “So you didn’t know he was Fae.”

“Well no, not until I asked him to grab my boots and he screamed when he touched the iron.” Jaskier adjusted his grip when Geralt started slipping.

“Aren’t you glad I bought them for you, then?”

“I’m not going to thank you if you haven’t thanked me for picking you up from the ground,” Jaskier said, realizing Geralt’s tactic. Geralt snorted in response.

“I told you I was  _ fine. _ ”

“You’re half asleep against my shoulder, and I’m practically dragging you to the river just so you can wash up. Have you even remembered where your clothes are?” Jaskier argued. Geralt grumbled in reply, and gathered his feet underneath him a little more, taking careful steps beside Jaskier.

“You can let go,” Geralt mumbled. “I can walk.”

Jaskier shrugged. If he wanted to be difficult, then Jaskier would let him. “Suit yourself,” he said, letting go of him and stepping away. Geralt grit his teeth as he stumbled, finally standing up straight.

“See, I’m just fi-“ Geralt started to take a step, falling forward into the grass when his legs buckled under his weight. Jaskier had a moment to enjoy Geralt’s pain when he saw scratches all over his back.

“Mercy of Melitele,” he whistled. “What happened here?” Jaskier crouched, touching one of the scratches lightly. They were too rough and uneven to have come from fingers or claws, maybe the creature had rough skin? Jaskier wished he could remember what they were called. He was curious to know what they were like, outside of their… abilities.

“Tree.”

Jaskier frowned. “A… tree?” That… didn’t seem right.

“I know what you’re thinking. I had my  _ back _ against a tree, idiot.”

_ Ah _ , thought Jaskier. That would do it. “Makes more sense than what I was think-“

“And  _ that’s _ where my clothes are,” Geralt interrupted. He pushed himself onto his hands and knees. “Back in the clearing, one of the trees. Swords should be there, too.” He started crawling forward on the ground, a shameful shuffle that Jaskier could tell was making his hips and knees ache. Pathetic.

“Come on,” Jaskier sighed, lifting Geralt from the ground again. He was more prepared to take his weight the second time, and Geralt seemed to give in more as well. He didn’t protest, just tilted his head against his shoulder and started moving.

The situations Geralt got himself into were ridiculous and stupid, Jaskier knew, but he wouldn’t have him any other way.

“Thanks,” Geralt mumbled as Jaskier eased him into the water. “For helping.”

“Aw, are you feeling gracious now? I knew you’d come around. Or maybe you’re too tired to argue anymore.”

Geralt punched him.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr! [In-love-with-writing002](https://in-love-with-writing002.tumblr.com/)


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